Felt pretty good.
Secondly, commenter McFly had the following question pursuant to a photograph in yesterday's post:
Why does a NYC Bed, Bath and Beyond stock massive milk-bones? Is that part of their "Beyond" inventory. Around here ours just have lotions and salves.
And a few LOOOOFaaaaaaa's.
May 29, 2013 at 6:10 AM
Because people in Manhattan, especially the ones who live close to that particular Bed, Bath, and/or Beyond, are fucking insane for dogs. Every single retail establishment between 5th Avenue and the Hudson River and between 14th and 23rd street sells shit for dogs, including the Judaica stores.
Speaking of Jews, I was checking in with BikePortland to see if they were talking about Citi Bike (now officially the most important "biking"-related subject in the world) and saw that proprietor Jonathan Maus is in Copenhagen:
You see this all over Copenhagen. Friends stopping for a chat while astride their bikes. These conversations would not be possible if people were in cars or on the Metro/bus
I'm as beguiled by the cycling cities of Europe as anybody, but this happens with cars all the time. Clearly Maus has never been to an affluent Jewish neighborhood in New York and seen the Luxury Car Yenta Stop-And-Chat. The way it works is that the drivers of two Jaguars traveling in opposite directions recognize each other (usually by their large coiffures since all their cars look the same) and then the kibitzing begins. Usually there's an elaborately bejeweled hand dangling out of each driver's side window. These chats can last as long as 20 minutes as traffic comes to a halt in either direction, and indeed this phenomenon is responsible for 90% of the traffic on the LIE.
To put it another way, you know those scenes in "The Wire" where McNulty and "Bunk" would sort of 69 their cars and talk? Well, it's like that, only a lot more nasal.
In other news, what's the first thing you think of when you hear the phrase "pop-up store?" Collabos? Artisanal sponges? Bespoke pants? Well, there's a new pop-up store about to pop up in San Francisco, and it's being up-popped by a company that's synonymous with "trendy." That company, of course, is Rivendell.
And yes, you're goddamn right that's Jimmy Carter.
Or maybe it's Ted Danson, I can't be sure.
Anyway, the store pops up like a timer on a turkey this Saturday, June 1st, and here are the details:
Rivendell Bicycle Works is opening a pop-up in San Francisco’s Mission District, June 1 - 9, near Shotwell and just three blocks from the 24th & Mission BART Station. The space is run by Asterick Magazine, where they hold the occasional art opening.
There will be several Rivendell bikes to see and touch, art from our other showroom in Walnut Creek in the East Bay, plus bags and handlebars. Some free schwag, brochures, coupons, a secret ‘have-to-be-there-to-get-it’ super deal. Small items for sale, and discounted posters. No test rides, sorry, just too much to worry about at the start and our insurance for the rider... well, we’re not sure about that part.
Our big honkin’ 71cm Homer will be there though. It will be the only bike available for test ride. ‘Century Club’ only (if your pubic bone height is 100cm or higher).
Word is there’s an espresso machine, but not quite like the one we have in Walnut Creek. Our Man Rich Lesnik himself will be building wheels while you watch! At least a few days during the week.
Opening day is noon on Saturday, June 1. At 5pm Saturday we’re doing something special, a giveaway? Hmm.
There are parking meters along the sidewalk for blocks. Plenty of bike parking. FYI: the road between BART and Shotwell on 24th is under construction. Good luck parking a car!
Come by! If for no other reason than to get a coupon… but your support will be appreciated by us and make this stretch of the Mission quite the spectacle. Our Walnut Creek location will be open normal hours, but since we’re taking a lot of stuff to SF, we’ll be low on test bikes and staff and the walls will be bare. You can pick up your bikes there.
If the store is a smash success, or we break even, we might be able to pull a Rapha and extend it longer. We’d like that!
Also, there will be a guy building wheels live (hopefully with Yngwie Malmsteen soundtrack and pyrotechnic accompaniment). If you haven't heckled a guy while he's building wheels then you haven't lived--and it's especially fun to heckle a Rivendell wheelbuilder because the jeers write themselves. ("Why not use some more spokes, Lesnik?" "When that wheel sits around the house, it really sits around the house." And so forth.) Actually, as I understand it, Rivendell has also rented out the storefront next door to store the the many boxes of spokes and nipples for the two (2) wheels Lesink will be building.
In any case, I don't mean to sound rude, but you'd have to be a complete idiot not to go, if only because Rivendell has produced some of the finest "disembodied hand" photography to date:
I don't know how the photographer managed to hold the bike, keep both his forearms out of the shot, and press the button at the same time.
And yes, obviously I know that's not what's happening in the photo, but it's a lot more amusing than the truth, which is that a bear and an old-timey pugilist are fighting over the bike while being refereed by a flaming tiger:
And no, the bear doesn't have a human hand, it's just that the flaming tiger made him shave his paw before the fight.
In all seriousness, go. I'd go myself if I didn't live on the other side of the country (the side where the smart people live) and I hadn't placed myself under house arrest until August. See, two (2) things start to happen when you start to reach my age, which is that 1) You start really wanting a Rivendell; and B) You start getting nostalgic. Moreover, these bouts of nostalgia hit you at odd moments, just like when you used to get an erection for no reason during homeroom. It's all very Proustian. (If you're not literary like I am, Proust was this French guy who wrote a whole book about "school boners," called "A la recherche du boneurs de l'ecole" or something like that, I did pretty bad in French.)
Anyway, yeah, so this innocent tweet made me nostalgic, and I've been walking around with a wistful memory boner all morning because of it:
My favourite bike of all time was my/is my________________See, my favorite bike of all time was this one:
— bikeradar (@bikeradar) May 29, 2013
My male role model took me out to Brands in Wantagh to buy it. I guess it was the low-end Haro at the time, but it was the first "real" bike I'd ever owned, in that you would actually see pictures of it (well, ads at least) in the BMX magazines. I remember every sticker on that bike in vivid detail because I used to stare at them for hours. First I tried to do tricks, but then I discovered BMX racing and my male role model would shuttle me to the track at Newbridge Road in Bellmore, which I assume disappeared years ago. (The track, not Bellmore itself.) On the way I'd stop at Burger King for a bacon, egg, and cheese Croissan'Wich, because we only had a rudimentary understanding of the concept of "pre-race nutrition."
As the years went on I performed all the usual "upgrades" on the bike, most of them with a Channellock, until I eventually traded the frame for my friend's Mongoose Californian, which ultimately got stolen.
If you think about it, that's really how everything works: it's new and wonderful, then you start fucking with it, and then you just fuck it up completely and it's over. One day you're bursting out of the start gate in your very first bike race, and the next you're in the latest issue of "Country Living" next to the baskets, as forwarded by a reader:
If you need me, I'll be at Burger King sobbing.